


Wounded Machine

by vocal_implant



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Cyberware Malfunctions, I feel like he should also have some secret balisong flipping skills, I'm really bad a tagging shit, Kerry eats college freshman caliber amounts of takeout, M/M, Ripperdocs, Slow Romance, Slow To Update, The Mox, You bet your ass I'm gonna write that in now, it'll eventually get kinda dirty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29319195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocal_implant/pseuds/vocal_implant
Summary: In short, Kerry busted his vocal implant and the only ripperdoc who knows how one works and is willing to help him out on the down low is a Mox working in the attic of Lizzie's Bar. And Kerry has the titanium balls to ask the ripper out for coffee.
Relationships: Kerry Eurodyne/ Ryan Tungsten, Kerry Eurodyne/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

MSM could not know Kerry fucked up his neck. He'd be screwed if they did. Well, he wouldn't be totally screwed but he'd get some tongue lashing about fuck knows what that doesn't even really pertain to messing up his vocal implant. So there he was in slim cut cargo pants and a leather jacket and hoodie, trying not to be noticed. He'd gotten a text from the mysterious but reputable ripperdoc known as Ryan Tungsten saying to come to Lizzie's Bar at 3 and ask for him. Two Moxes stood by the door so he made his appearance.

"We're closed, open at six," one of the girls spoke up as he got closer.

"Looking for Ryan Tungsten, said to come at three," Kerry shoved his hands in his jacket's pockets.

"Ah, I see. Go inside, make a right, stairway up to the second floor. Follow the balcony around, metal door with a bunch of stickers, can't miss it."

"Thanks," Kerry nodded as the Moxes let him in.

The rocker hadn't been to Lizzie's since Lizzie herself had died, back when it was just a strip club. He had fond memories of getting a lap dance from some blonde guy. Reminded him of when he and Johnny used to get rowdy at places like this. Then of course those times usually ended in disappointment for either not getting laid by the man he actually wanted or getting into a threesome with that man but never ending up on the receiving end. It had been half a century since those times though, Kerry was available as ever and he'd had sex ranging for horrible to borderline life changing.

Why was he thinking about his sex life? Probably because he'd been on a dry spell for the last five years.

Kerry followed the balcony to the door and opened up to a classic ripper's den. Most of the room was metal and concrete, lit up by neon signs and glowing posters of bands, movies and cyberware. Across the room, a ripperdoc, who he assumed was Ryan, was shirtless and seemed to be fusing transdermal armor on his sternum with only a mirror to help him.

"One sec," Ryan gave him a friendly enough nod, wiping away blood from his chest. "Sorry, no one ever really comes on time here."

"No worries," Kerry gave him a half smile.

"Fuck," he sighed, wiping the plate down with a damp rag before pulling on a white t shirt that sat tight across his body in just the right way. 

"New stuff or damaged?" The rocker tried to fill the silence.

"Damaged, fuckin' Tyger decided that Watson bridge in there now. Nearly shanked by a tanto," Ryan grabbed an apron off the back off the back of a chair, making him look like some kind of hipster carpenter. "Ryan Tungsten."

"Kerry Eurodyne."

Ryan seemed no older than 35, maybe 40 with skin care on par with Kerry's but his hair reminded him of Nance's back in the Samurai days with the long fringe on one side. Only difference was it was a dark red which contrasted with his gold eyes and what looked to be halftone grey sclera. Alongside the armor, he had tight carbon fiber plating up his neck that looked rather similar to Kerry's implant.

"So vocal implant, said you've got severe pain, right?" The ripperdoc pointed to the chair across the room.

"Yeah," Kerry sat down as Ryan pulled his chair over and sat next to the rockerboy.

"How long have you had that one?"

"Hm, 2056, yeah, that was it."

"Due for a new one around now this time anyways. What'd you do?"

"Really gotta know?"

"Damaged mine in a fist fight awhile back, did some work for a guy with a smoking MrStud, had to help a woman who'd gotten half her face melted off. Can't promise I won't laugh but I'm a professional, I've probably heard worse."

"Uh, let’s just keep it at sex."

"Dumbass," Ryan chuckled. "I'll take a look but you probably just need a new one."

"Can you do me another, then?"

"Yeah, I'll make a custom build. Take me a day or two but it'll be one of a kind. Can make a copy of your current one or redesign."

"You'd just make me a new implant?"

"I'm a ripperdoc and good one at that. Not my first rodeo, got any allergies or preferred materials?"

"Latex and I'm a fan of gold," Kerry shrugged. 

"Alright, think I've got an old sketch when I was getting my permanent one in," Ryan went to a bookshelf and grabbed a notebook, flipping through a few pages. "Here. Instead of the grey, probably a black flex acrylic and the border and other parts will be gold leafed. Full build even for lung enhancements and other shit cause, you know, get you chest blasted with some tech shots, you probably don't have original lungs anymore," Ryan muttered.

"You saying you got shot and fucked your chest? Unification War vet?"

"Ex Trauma Team actually, but yeah, got a gnarly call one morning to pick up from a scav den. Got a Satara to the chest. Ever want free Trauma platinum, work for 'em. Didn't pay a fuckin' cent and then I said 'fuck it, this ain't worth my time or blood' and quit."

"That the way most Trauma Team people go?"

"Most stay on until they flatline but, y'know, not my vibe. Plus there was this security guy on my squad, absolute corpo cunt, made sure I knew he was from Charter Hill, ex Arasaka. Just an overall tool. But he finally got two to the head last summer."

"So how does a Trauma Team vet end up kickin' it with the Mox?" Kerry looked over the sketche's notes but even if the handwriting was legible, he had no idea what it meant.

"Lizzie and I used to be friends, rest in peace. I knew a few girls when the Mox got started. After I left Trauma. Said could use someone with the rep and the skill so I took up residency."

"Interesting superhero story."

"Mhm, so down for this one?"

"Yeah. How long’s this gonna take to build?"

"Not terribly long, probably done by tomorrow. Scanned your current one, I'll use some of the components that are already in just so I don't have to build them in-house."

"You build all your implants?"

"Usually," Ryan tossed the notebook on his workbench. "Buy most of 'em off Maelstrom, smash and reconstruct. Not cheap but I don't mind paying for quality parts. But for vocal implants, even using components already in, can't really just buy one off the bat, the components have to be custom to your vocal tract. Everything's gotta be manufactured by me. And here."

Ryan passed Kerry an unmarked inhaler, "what's in it?"

"Just some meds, keep the pain off. Just keep the chatting down, drink warm liquids. If it hurts, take two whiffs, should last you for a few hours. I'll call you when the implant is done. Anything else broken? Can give you a quick check if you need."

"You do optics?"

"How nice you lookin' for?"

"Got Kiroshi Mk II's right now, had 'em for quick a few years though, looking around for new ones."

"Have some custom builds, got a pair rather close to your eye color too. Based on the Kiroshi's technology, talks with Militech, Arasaka, etcetera, pretty much any interface."

"Got time for installation while I'm here?"

"Caught me on a good day," Ryan went over to a shelf and pulled down a box. "So in the market for anything in particular?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a business trip right now so things might be off and on


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah, shit," Ryan sighs as he got bloody water on his shirt from cleaning used surgical tools. "Why you bought a fuckin' apron, dumbass."

"Hey, Ry," Rita poked her head through the door and knocked on the metal.

"Hey," he gave her a smile, still working the dried and rotting blood off surgical steel.

"Still not gonna say anything about Kerry Eurodyne coming to see you yesterday?" Rita sat at his desk chair.

"You never asked but like I said before, trashed vocal implant. Built a new one for 'im, going to his place when I'm done with this for installation since it's pretty fast."

"On a trip to North Oak? Knew you sometimes left your attic but all the way out there?"

"Hey, he invited me over. Ideally, I'll put his neck back together and then I can be wined, dined and sixty-nined."

"Well, you once did vow to fuck a celebrity. And what happens when he's just too lazy to come back and you're the gonk trying to suck him off?"

"Been kinda dry lately, I'll take my chances. Well, I should probably keep him around, paid me a preem for this piece," Ryan haphazardly pointed at his work bench.

Rita got up and took a look as the gold parts splayed out on the table, "full set up like yours, too. Prolly got more synth-organs than fingers."

"He's surprisingly organic, actually. Likely just all cell rejuvenation and replacement but other than lung augmentations, eyes and some cerebral implants, he's mostly natural."

"Who'd have thought? Guess you're leaving before opening then. See you later, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ryan dried his hands. "Ought hang more, though. I still owe you that drink."

"Damn straight you do," Rita closed the metallic door behind her.

Ryan took off his shirt and put it in the basket full of rags, cloths and other clothes that needed to be washed but he'd bring them back to his apartment later that week. He genuinely didn't know if Kerry was coming onto him or just figured it's easier for Ryan to go up to North Oak. If Ryan was honest with himself, it really wasn't. The ripper worked in Little China, lived in Vista Del Rey, was more than vigilant in Kabuki and avoided Japantown like the plague. For a Mox, it basically was and Ryan had perhaps made the mistake of removing almost all his combat implants from the war seven years ago. Well, he did need to go home for a new shirt anyways, he could take the bridge into Charter Hill and avoid a potential altercation with the local Tyger Claws, they didn't often dare come that far. He'd at least make it into North Oak without a problem.

The corner of his cornea lit up with an icon of a tattoo Ryan was familiar enough with that he answered.

"Hey, Kerry, what's up? Need to reschedule?" Ryan put the gold implants into a case.

"Jeez you have shitty clients. Nah, time is perfectly fine. My chef's off for the night so I was gonna order some Thai, you eaten?"

"Have to head home before I hit your place, planned on eating there."

"Don't worry about that, what do you want?"

"You don't have to get me dinner," Ryan smiled.

"Agree to disagree, I really appreciate you coming up here for the implant. It's the least I can do. If you say no I'm gonna order anyways."

"Surprise me then, I’ll eat anything. Be over in like an hour or so."

"Perfect. Also what kind of car you drive?"

"Got an old school ARCH, actually. Don't even own a car to be honest."

"Just checkin' so the gate opens for you. Come up on the south end of the road, I'm first on your left. Samurai on the gate, you can't miss it."

"Okay, see you in a bit."

"See you, Ry."

Ryan’s heart shouldn't have beat a beat harder when Kerry called him Ry. Rita had taken up the nickname but they'd been friends for years. Lizzie was first, in fact. She never called him by his full name.

Ryan went about the last rounds to clean up his clinic before locking everything up and locking the door. He thought about stopping by in the basement and seeing if Judy was back but he was somewhat on a schedule and he could easily talk to the BD editor for hours. Instead he made his way to the front door and smiled at Jenny and Kalan who were watching the door.

The ride home was always therapeutic to Ryan. He believed in safety to some degree but unless he was racing, he never wore a helmet. There was too often something special about the wind in his hair and the organic sounds of the city. From the highway into Wellspring and the maze of streets to his apartment, Heywood was and always would be home. Night City's biggest bedroom and the ripperdoc had no shame saying he slept there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will get longer, I promise


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd sacrifice my firstborn for a KRGT-1, it's such a pretty bike. Don't get me wrong, I love my Triumph but come on, ARCH is like the Ferrari of motorcycles

Ryan drove a refurbished KRGT-1, the first model ever created by ARCH back in the 2010s. The ARCH Nazaré was popular, expensive yet just affordable enough to not be considered luxury. But any model predating the Nazaré or even its prototype predecessor, the Method 143, were a massive sign of wealth. Or in Ryan's case, massive amounts of luck. Driving across the southern bridge into Charter Hill always offered the light breeze from the river and made for a beautiful view at sunset when the light passed through the skyscrapers and buildings. Night City was no city of dreams but Ryan always considered it his muse of sorts. It was his home, his city.

The ripperdoc followed the roads up into the desert hills of North Oak. He passed by the Columbarium, deciding to stop by for a moment. Ryan made his way along the rows of stone to the one with Mox graffiti. The contents used to be in Militech's archive but the ripper had since moved it to where his remains would be. He opened the box to a set of rings and a picture of him and another man from 2021. He hadn't even lost his legs yet. His implants were minimal compared to today, just synapse accelerators, a prototype integrated cyberdeck and optics. He remembered volunteering to be the lab rat for the cyberdeck procedure and it was a perfect success. It pulled Militech ahead of Arasaka now that their netrunning specialists could run hacks without even pulling out a cyberdeck. 

"Long time, no see. Guess another chapter is starting, let's hope this doesn't end on a cliffhanger," Ryan spoke slowly. "See you, brother. Rest well."

The ripperdoc closed the box but took the photo with him, slipping it into his wallet. 

Ryan rode up the road but it was within walking distance from the stone monuments. The gate opened as several security bots watched him, one of which was wearing a party hat. 

"Hey, Ry," Kerry sat on the patio on a chaise with styrofoam containers on a table next to him. "Food just got here and everything."

"Thanks," Ryan sat on the other side of the table.

"Like, I said, it's the least I could do," Kerry was different from their first meeting, small nuances that were off.

He seemed more tired, more worn. Perhaps getting out and going to Lizzie's was a change of pace but now he was back to his solitary state of North Oak isolation. Ryan didn't pry though. He liked figuring people out but he knew to not overstep the line, especially when the person in question is not only paying a preem for his services but has the money to destroy him.

"I'm curious, why do you spend so much on building implants instead of buying? I've never met a ripper who makes their own," Kerry seemed to muse, half focusing on his own question and half focusing on his drunken noodles.

"I always loved robotics and machines, like a hobby, but I trust myself more than I trust my sellers," Ryan opened the container to lukewarm river noodles with synth pork.

"Hm, guess with location you've got Scavs, Maelstrom, maybe Tygers but you're a Mox, good and proper, right?"

"Surprised you know your gangs. Maelstrom are my sellers though."

"Nowadays, don't got much else to pay attention to," Kerry shrugged with a chuckle. "You hide most of your Mox tatts, too."

"Feeling more observant with those new eyes?"

"Best I've ever had, I think. Clearest for sure and it's like they read my thoughts."

"Built that way for a reason. Those are usually made for Moxes or mercs who come to us. I usually hook them up with an NCPD database for red flags and bounties but I pulled that back on yours. Regardless, that's preem stuff. Meant to have perfect vision at half a kilometer, resistant to heat, corrosives, can't be fried by electricity and yeah, they link up with your cerebral implants. Your eyes work with your cerebrum so if you look at someone and wanna know something, your eyes will show you that something. Every mercenary at the Afterlife and beyond wants to get their hands on this kind of technology. Most rippers have the off-the-shelf version but myself and another doc named Viktor have our own modified versions, far superior to even Arasaka or Kiroshi's," Ryan paused. "And I'm rambling on about cyberware."

"It would be rambling if I wasn't paying attention. So basically they're hard to destroy, clear vision, can read my mind, can be uploaded with a database for mercs and everyone wants 'em."

"Pretty much. Sorry if I do that."

"No worries, I think it's nova you love what you do like that, something pretty rare in Night City. Doing better than me."

"What do you mean?"

"The writing well has been dry lately," Kerry shrugged like it was nothing. "But the drought will pass eventually. However the handsome ripperdoc who likes cyberware might be in my notes for inspiration."

"You flatter me."

"No one ever said I wasn't a charmer."

Kerry was definitely flirting with him now, almost blatantly. Maybe Ryan could get laid tonight. 

By no means was Kerry "not his type", Ryan had standard but he wasn't picky with his partners. His only real requirements were well-mannered, clean and preferably male but he made his exceptions when they came about. Kerry seemed to check all three boxes.

"So, how do you put in vocal 'ware? Last ripper I asked was vague and told me I wouldn't understand her lingo which I didn't but, y’know, at least know what you're doing in my neck."

"It's pretty easy actually, procedure is about an hour since you've got the implantation in and I don't have to carve out new stuff. Have you drugged out with a small intramuscular dose of ketamine to keep you from feeling pain, not enough to be gone for long though. Basically, I remove the paneling and take everything out. Make sure nothing is broken or damaged. If it is, I'll fix it and put in the new. Your lung modifications are a little harder. Need you awake but you won't be able to breath for about two minutes while I take out and put in the new fixtures. Your current implant forces you to breathe deeper but mine creates a bypass under your chest and through your ribcage to take in more air per breath. You'll breathe easier in general too with that kind of intake. Also if you ever get choked out you can technically still breath."

"Not bad. That how yours is?"

"My bypass is a little high up but same principles and tech."

"Weird shit. I don't mind blood but don't think I could ever be a ripperdoc. Or at least a real ripperdoc."

"A real ripperdoc?"

"Y'know, the kind you call at 3 am ‘cause your choom got shot, not so much the nice office in a skyscraper kind."

"Might be, you already think like us. 'Sides, wouldn't even call them ripperdocs. Ryder always told me that if you go home wearing someone else's blood, good or bad day, at least you were productive."

"Taught by Cassius Ryder himself, then?"

"Mentored more like it, taught me how to apply all that TraumaTeam knowledge into a clinic."

"And look at you now, Kerry Eurodyne's ripperdoc."

"Not quite my greatest achievement but up there."

"Really? Spill."

"My greatest achievement? Living this long."

"Come on you're not that old."

"Not that old? I'm almost double the average age expectancy of Night City."

"No way you're 80."

"78 but close enough."

"Fucking hell, though you were like mid-thirties. Don't scare me like that."

"Well now if it makes you feel better you can reminisce of music and movies from the 2010s and 20s and I'll get ya."

"This is bullshit, you are not 78."

"And why not?"

"Not even I looked that good when I was 78."

"You likely just didn't have TramaTeam platinum and so you actually had to pay for your procedures."

"Lucky asshole, I have platinum. But they don’t cover cosmetics, how the hell did you get yours covered?"

"I put in a request saying my performance would go up. Still got them covering my treatments even after I left."

"You sly motherfucker."

"Father-fucker is more my pace but sure," Ryan shrugged, setting the styrofoam container he emptied to the side.

"Keep that in mind," the rocker winked.

It doesn't seem like Ryan crossed a line he shouldn't have. 

On the other hand, Kerry was more than just worried about coming on too strong but considering the ripperdoc wasn't stopping him and even came back with his own hints, he considered their dinner an absolute win. Maybe not a first date but a fond memory to live in the recesses of his brain and maybe pulled out when they talk about how they met.

"So, implant time or are you still chilling out?" Ryan ross from the back of the chaise.

"Sooner it gets done the sooner I can be back to normal," Kerry got up. "What do you need?"

"Just somewhere you can stay still. Couch or bed is fine and blood should be minimal if any."

“Preem, got that,” Kerry almost grinned.

The ripperdoc followed Kerry inside. The villa was open but about as clean as a teenager’s bedroom. Still cleaner than Ryan’s bedroom. 

“Sorry, I didn’t clean up much, kinda got away from me,” Kerry let out a nervous laugh, leading Ryan to an open living room.

“Don’t worry, better than my place,” the ripperdoc set his backpack and case down.

“Alright, cut me open, doc,” Kerry took his shirt off and got comfortable on the couch while his ripper pulled on gloves.

“Preem,” Ryan opened a box in his bag with syringes already full. “Might hallucinate a little, varies from person to person, but just stay still or if you gotta move, get my attention.”

“Righto,” the ripperdoc cleaned the injection site and around Kerry’s implant. “Why intramuscular rather than intravenous?”

“The high is a lot shorter and the onset takes a little longer. Intravenous takes seconds when intramuscular takes about two or three minutes,” Ryan injected the drug at muscle depth. “Gives me time where you’re still functioning. The dose I gave you will last less than an hour cause I need you sober enough to insert the bypass.”

“Right, hold my breath.”

“Not even that, just don’t choke,” Ryan rubbed Kerry’s arm almost like a massage to onset the ketamine faster.

Ryan could tell when Kerry quieted, the drug had set in. He worked off the front plating of Kerry’s implant and tossed it onto the plastic bag he brought, planning on recycling any components he could. Whoever his last ripper was, Ryan hated them.

“You mind if I smoke?” the ripperdoc, pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Kerry shook his head, still functioning but the relaxed look was all Ryan needed. The ripperdoc pulled an ashtray over while he lit himself off. Ryan continued working without any hiccups, chaining another cigarette behind the first. 

“Okay, no pain?” Ryan spoke, carefully keeping his cigarette between his lips at the same time.

Kerry shook his head.

“Preem.”

Kerry closed his eyes and relaxed as the new plating went over his throat, several metallic clicks falling into place.

“Alright, take it easy on your voice. Should be able to talk though.”

“Fuck, am I still high?” Kerry grinned

“Probably a little. Wait for you to come around a little more before putting in the bypass.”

“Mhm, probably a good idea.”

“By the way, who was your last ripperdoc, really need to strangle ‘em.”

“Fuck, some recommendation who was definately contracted by the record company. Maria… Maria something. She was a cunt.”

“Figures.”

“I might be coming down but I know that look. What’s the worry?”

“Okay so the way most implants work is they put wiring into the diaphragm to make you breathe deeper. I’m worried about how your muscles have interacted with the wires.”

“What happened with yours?”

“My right came out fine, left kinda rejected it so they were more in my system. Disconnected and idle now but I had to leave them in.”

“Fuck. So there’s that complication.”

“Little bit. I can work around them but as a medical professional, I can’t recommend having idle chrome that deep in your body. Makes for far worse complications if and when something goes wrong.”

“Shit and you can’t even take yours out.”

“Haven’t tried in a few years, might be able now. Should check with Ryder on that. Kinda forgot about it until you. Never do vocal implants.”

“What about yours, what happened to you?”

“Shrapnel from an explosion, earlier in my Trauma career. Even with the armor, piece of steel lodged in my neck.”

“Shit, you can’t seem to catch a break. How many implants you got?”

“Wow, where do I start? Both my legs, my arm, lungs, heart, bones, subdermal armor, transdermal armor, cyberdeck and cerebrals can be one, optics. A lot, let’s go with that. I’m like 30 or 40% cyberware.”

That was really thought though for Ryan. He’d never considered how much of him was cybernetic. He was still human, still looked human, prided himself on not looking like a ‘borg despite the changes in his physiology. Kerry seemed so natural, original almost. That was a lie for both of them. Even 50 or 60 years ago they’d probably be retired old fools, if not already dead, at their age. Age really was a number in 2076. Well, assuming you have the eddies to make it no more than a number.

“Hey, feeling good. Let’s get it over with?” Kerry smiled.

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded. “Now this is gonna hurt and there could be some nerve damage no matter how carefully I am. Just relax, try to stay still.”

“I hope you know you have wonderful bedside manner, soothing voice too.”

“My voice wasn’t always this nice. Used to be a lot rougher before I got the implant. I was having voice cracks in my late 20s.”

“I pity 28 year old you.”

Ryan shook his head with a smile as he worked the seams over Kerry’s implant open and removed the plating. With one look he was already about to rip his arm off and beat Kerry’s last riperdoc to death with it.

“You have to be fucking kidding me!”


End file.
